


Throwback

by JerichoholicAnonymous



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance, Sort of AU, set in FCW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerichoholicAnonymous/pseuds/JerichoholicAnonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth Rollins is one of FCW's brightest prospects. He'd come from a small town where he'd left it all behind for the sake of his dreams — including a lover who reenters his life and reminds him of just how much he'd lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Why hello. I'm here with a new story that's different for me. It's set in FCW and contains AU-ish elements. This story will have multiple chapters. For now, I'm thinking four or five but that will depend on how I'm feeling it and of course, the feedback I have on the story. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy reading!

Seth was in a corner of the ring, stretching off the ropes, watching as one by one, wrestlers took turns practicing drills. William Regal was in town this week, and he was the one overseeing training for that period of time. Seth was ecstatic about it. He very much looked up to William Regal, having watched him as a kid on the tiny screen TV of his living room. He used to despise his villainous ways, but learned to appreciate them as he further got involved in wrestling, developing a huge respect for the man behind them. He felt privileged to so much share a ring with him.

Seth was always a standout in his class. He was one of the more experienced guys in developmental, having spent a good while scraping his way up from promotion to promotion before getting signed by WWE. The experience factor wasn't enough for Seth, though. He made sure that nobody else outworked him. He made sure to be the first one to arrive to the warehouse and the last one to leave. He was never satisfied with stagnation. He worked exponentially harder to improve his physique, his in-ring work, his stamina, his strength. There was always, always room for improvement. Complacency was out of the question.

There was also the fact that he wanted this so badly. His dream, ever since being a child, was to wrestle for WWE. He wanted to be as big as the people he saw on TV, wanted to be as legendary as his favorites had gone onto be. He wanted to win the WWE Championship and headline WrestleMania. He wanted all the gold, all the fame, all the adulation. This was his dream, a dream that never abandoned him. And from the first second he stepped through those ropes, his dream became his goal, his passion. He instantly sensed that this was where he belonged, that this was what he  _needed_  to do to be happy. His first bump made him see stars. But it didn't stop him from gladly getting right back up and taking bump after bump after bump.

He worked so very hard to get to where he was. He spent his last dime coasting from city to city. He lost count of the sleepless nights he'd had for lack of sheltering. Most of all, he had to sacrifice a whole hell of a lot, had to leave behind things he never wanted to let go of. The price to get to FCW was hefty, which gave this job that much more worth. This job was his entire life, his entire world. It was the only thing he had left, really, and he'd be damned if he didn't hold onto it with everything he had.

It was why every word of props he got from his trainers filled him with a sense of validation, why any applause he generated from them boosted him with pride, why a clap on his shoulder from William Regal reminded him that he'd earned the right to be exactly where he was.

Practice went on as usual. Drills were done, bumps were taken, moves were landed while some were performed. It was long and excruciating and rewarding all at once. It left no one standing upright by the end of it, Regal taking the liberty of putting them through the wringer and pushing everyone to their limits. Seth was left gasping for air as he leaned against the turnbuckle, his hair falling over his face, his black shorts and beige shirt drenched with sweat while Regal lined them up for a pep talk.

He'd been attempting to tie his hair in a neater bun his head tipped down, when he heard Norman Smiley's voice nearing ringside.

"Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to our latest signee. Some of you may know him, some of you may not but of course, I want you to welcome him with open arms. Mister Ambrose here-"

The hairs on the back of Seth's neck stood as quickly as his head snapped up. Seth was sure his brain was playing tricks on him as he laid eyes on him. This couldn't be real. He couldn't be right there, in the flesh. He couldn't.

"-will be joining you as soon as tomorrow for practice, alright? I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow."

The rest of the sentence had nearly gone unheard by Seth, the sheer mention of Dean's name rendering him static. His eyes were wide open in pure and utter shock, unable to believe the sight in front of him. He wasn't prepared to see him again after all this time. It was too much to take in all at once.

He'd heard the news of a new signing, but he never stuck around long enough to know who it actually was. He just assumed he'd meet them when they arrived. He never bothered asking. If it were a friend, they usually called Seth beforehand to break the news. How he wished he would've stuck around this time, how he wished he would've asked who it was that got recruited.

His heart was up at his throat, his chest heaving violently. He was unable to take his eyes off him. He was in a blank white teeshirt, clad in a dark denim jacket with fitted jeans. His hair was slightly messy, but had been cut much shorter than it used to be. His body had grown in muscle weight, his shoulders broader, his arms more prominent. He looked absolutely amazing.

Dean was looking at Norman through the end of his introduction before shaking his hand and talking to him for a brief moment. It was only then that Dean scouted the wrestlers inside the ring, his eyes roaming the area. Eventually, the inevitable happened and Dean's eyes met Seth's. Seth could see him physically freeze. He didn't even blink. In that moment, everything around them had been darkened and blurred. Any surrounding noise had been washed out, Seth's ears blocked by a thrumming flow of blood. In that moment, it was just him and Dean in that room.

But before he knew it, Dean dropped his gaze and anxiously made his way to the agents by the curtain. Seth was still transfixed against the turnbuckle, unable to tear his eyes away from Dean, too hypnotized and too shocked that he  _was_  really here.

A minute or two later, he watched as Dean slid through the curtain and suddenly, his survival instincts kicked into gear. Seth's senses were on high alert. This was the opportunity he'd been awaiting for a very, very long time. He rushed out of the ring and through the ropes, minding nothing and no one at all. He tried and failed to steady his breath as he sped through the backstage area in an attempt to catch up to Dean. Fortunately, he hadn't retrieved too far, noticing Dean's figure down the hallway.

"Dean!"

Seth called out for him, but Dean kept on walking ahead and Seth wasn't sure whether he truly hadn't heard him or ignored him on purpose. But he wasn't about to give Dean the freedom of choice. He jogged the diminishing distance that separated them, hellbent on chasing him down.

"Dean." He wheezed out, out of sorts and a bit out of breath as he stopped in front of him, blocking his passage. "Hey."

Dean silently stared at Seth, the look in his eyes soft around the edges yet completely indiscernible to Seth. It made him want to squirm and nearly made him squirm. "Hey."

Seth quickly licked and bit his lips, a nervous habit he'd harbored for years. The air was so heavy between them, almost choking Seth. "I, uh... I didn't know you got signed. I mean, I had no idea at all."

Dean's eyes remained cold as ice, barely batting a lash. "Don't blame you. I mean, the signing and everything...it all happened very quickly."

"Congratulations and uh, welcome to FCW. I mean, you deserve it. You really deserve it." Seth replied, smoothing back his unkempt locks in nervousness.

"Thank you, Seth. I appreciate it."

Dean wasn't giving him much leeway, and Seth feared he would end their talk prematurely. But Seth didn't want him to, didn't want the conversation to fade away this quickly. He wanted to cling onto it, cling onto Dean and keep him there with him for hours. God knows how long he'd wanted to do just that.

"So, how are you? How've you been?"

"I'm doing good. Been busting my ass all over the country, paying my dues, doing my thing. Glad it all worked out, y'know." Dean answered, shrugging his right shoulder.

"Clearly, man. It shows. You look good."

Dean tucked his lips in a small smirk, one Seth could tell wasn't all that genuine, one that didn't come from the heart whatsoever. "Thanks. You too."

Seth reciprocated the same smirk, nodding in short, distressed movements.

"You look really good." Seth blurted out of his control, at a loss of what else to say, still blown away by the man he was talking to, blown away that he was talking  _to_  him and he didn't know how to deal with that avalanche of unexpected feelings.

Dean's smirk vanished, his poker face still on show, tearing at something inside Seth. "Thanks."

They wordlessly looked at each other, each second spent in agony for Seth, overcome by the awkwardness that entangled itself with the chemistry and fire they'd had and cherished together, scared by what came next.

"I'm gonna have to go," Dean broke the silence, pointing somewhere over Seth's shoulder. "Gotta talk to some agents, finalize the deal, sign some paperwork. You know how it is."

Whatever was tearing at Seth was now shattering him to bits. He didn't want Dean to go, but couldn't hold him back in any way. "Yeah," Seth responded, frantically nodding again, "of course."

"Okay. Guess I'll see you around." Dean saluted, throwing two fingers up, raising his eyebrows in evident discomfort. He passed by Seth but barely a couple of steps later, Seth couldn't help but stop him.

"Dean, wait." Seth promptly walked up to him, standing face to face once more. "Do you wanna have coffee sometime? You know, catch up on old times?"

For the first time that day, emotion came alive in Dean's eyes, emotion that Seth couldn't pin down and decipher. Dean looked up to the ceiling and back at Seth, his hands fidgeting the slightest bit. "I don't think that's a good idea, Seth."

Seth could feel his lips tremble, his heart palpitating, his nerves throbbing. He was being torn to shreds. "Wh-why?"

Dean closed his eyes, subtly shaking his head from side to side. "I came here for a fresh start, Seth. A new start, a new page. I don't wanna dwell on the past. I ain't about that anymore. I wanna do  _this_  right." Dean answers, gesticulating around him, referring to this building _,_ to FCW. "I gotta do this right."

Seth was past the point of desperation. He just wanted Dean's company again. "We don't-we don't have to talk about old times, alright? We can just talk about FCW, and WWE, and the future-"

"And what, Seth?" Dean interrupts, his voice low and cold and dangerous, anger bordering his words. He looked over Seth's shoulder, approaching his ear with a single step. "You want me to talk to you and be reminded of how you left me overnight for  _your_ future? How you left town and abandoned me without a heads up so you can make all  _your_  dreams come true?"

Seth was positively quivering, unable to do anything but shake his head. "I- I...I don't..."

"I can't do that. It's too much. I can't do it again, Seth." Dean returned his eyes to Seth's. It scared Seth how emotionless and blank they were. "I'm done with that. Sorry."

Seth wrenched his eyes shut, dropping his head down, feeling his irises tingling behind his lids. There was absolutely nothing he could reply with, nothing to reply to. He'd been radically rejected by the one person he'd wanted contact with the most in the last two years.

"I'll see you around."

Seth couldn't pick his face up from the ground, only bobbing his head on autopilot, long after Dean's footsteps were out of earshot.

There was no erasing the past.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for joining me in this second chapter! Let me first just say that I'm extremely sad about Seth's injury. It came at a very unfortunate point in his career but I have no doubts that he will come back stronger and better than ever before. I'll miss seeing him on my TV, that's for sure!
> 
> I really, really hope you can enjoy this second chapter, though! Flashbacks are in italic. :)

_He'd seen the posters strewn around in the streets. A wrestling school was opening up in town. For a nineteen year old aspiring wrestler, this was the dream. Seth could barely believe that a school was actually coming to Buffalo, considering how small the city was. The school would probably amount to nothing special, but Seth would take the opportunity eyes closed. He wanted to take that first step in accomplishing his dream, and had wanted to for the longest time. There was no way he wouldn't take the plunge and not go for it, come hell or high water._

_He bummed a ride from a friend and arrived to the written address. It was a chilly, gloomy November afternoon. Hands in the pocket of his navy blue sweatshirt, he surveyed his environment. The advertized school was a modest building with uncovered red bricks, the familiar poster stuck on a white steel door. He skeptically walked forward and pushed on the knob. The place was completely empty, spare for a few other people who'd showed up. It was even more narrow on the inside. It was the size of a very small warehouse, barely able to fit a ring and a scarce number of chairs. It reeked of a particularly hideous smell. He looked around in confusion, scrunching his nose, apprehensive of what was about to come. Judging from the rumblings resonating in his ear, he wasn't the only one._

_Eventually, a short, middle-aged man with a slightly oversized gut walked into the building, cigarette smoke swarming around him like a cloud. It was gross. He clapped loudly and yelled for everyone to gather around. He scratched his belly and momentarily choked on a gruff cough._

_"Listen up, youngins. My name is Big Joe and I'm the one who's teachin' you how to wrestle. Right off the bat, some of y'all are gonna fuckin' suck and you'll get the boot. But for some of y'all, there might, just might be a tiny bit of hope." If Seth was supposed to feel optimistic, he was failing big time._

_"So here's how it's gonna work. I get paid, you learn how to wrestle. I don't get paid, you don't learn how to wrestle. Simple as that, no fuckin' excuses, no fuckin' exceptions for anyone. And quite frankly, I'll charge you a shitload of money for it all, and you'll take it." The man got closer to all of them, a serious scowl on his face, ending up right in front of Seth. "You know why? Because this is your only chance of ever becoming a wrestler in this dump of Iowa."_

_"Now!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm, a total contrast from the tone he'd had moments ago. "Tonight, you ain't learning how to wrestle. You are setting up the ring. Can't succeed if you don't know what your ring is made out of." That made sense to Seth. He was willing to learn everything about the business, down to its smallest, tiniest, grittiest of details. If that meant setting up the ring, so be it. He was more than ready for it._

_"Plus, a promoter called me and offered me a pretty damn good amount of money to run a show tonight. And I sure as hell ain't sayin' no to some cash." The man entertained himself, following his words with a stiff cackle. Just when Seth thought that this man had a semblant of values. Just when he thought there was a method behind the madness, he went ahead and threw it right out the window the next second. Dammit._

_"Get to work, boys! We don't got all day, boxes are in the corner of the room!" The guy closed out his speech with loud claps, cheering them to get moving. Seth really, really wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into._

_"Let the screwjob begin..." Seth mumbled under his breath as he moved to unpack a box._

_"You can say that again." A raspy voice replied in agreement. Seth looked up and was unexpectedly taken aback. That voice came from a guy who looked just as old as Seth did. He was an inch or two taller, with bright blue eyes. He had dirty blonde locks that stopped at chin level. He was slim but Seth could tell he had a bit of muscle underneath his black shorts and black hoodie. He was really, really attractive and Seth couldn't tell for sure whether or not he wasn't positively staring at the guy, because he suddenly smirked and showed off dimples that lit up jitters in Seth's stomach._

_"We're getting ripped off, aren't we." Seth asked, a spur of the moment kind of thing._

_"Like we've never been before. But," he responded, tearing the scotch tape off of a box, "that's the price we gotta pay to do what we wanna do, right?"_

_Seth understood him perfectly. He was speaking his own mind. He got him. "Right." Seth answered, with a firm nod._

_Seth attempted to store away his distraction as he heard instructions shouted by Big Joe. He took out the metal posts from the open box and placed them aside before the really hot, blue eyed guy came around and lent him a hand, setting them up with him. They wordlessly kept on working together, Seth grateful to have someone working alongside him. It was when they were laying down the apron that Seth spoke up, feeling an urge to just talk to the man next to him._

_"So what do you do?"_

_The guy narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow, like he'd heard something quite weird. "So you're the type to ask a guy what he does before asking for his name?"_

_Seth felt his cheeks burn as he pursed his lips to the side. It clearly amused the other man as he flashed him a grin, his dimples more prominent than before. It made Seth smile in return, beyond his control. "I'm caught."_

_Seth didn't know if he was hallucinating, but it sure felt like he was flirting with a really handsome stranger for the first time in his life._

_"The name's Dean. I'm a professional motorcycle racer."_

_Seth's eyes opened wide in awe. "Really?"_

_"Nope."_

_"No?" It was Seth's turn to look at him quizzically._

_"Nope. But I shine and loan shoes for the hour at a bowling alley, which is just as exciting to me."_

_Seth snorted and rolled his eyes. Dean had a small smile on his face as he flattened the apron over the edge of the mat. "What about you?"_

_"Me?" Seth asked rhetorically. "I wait tables at a bar on weekends."_

_"I was asking for your name. I'm not one to go right for the fuckin' kill like someone else, y'know."_

_Seth batted his eyes and looked up as though completely unfazed by that smartass remark. The facade crumbled to pieces when Dean smiled at him again, though. Damn him and damn those dimples. "I'm Seth."_

_"You know, Seth," Dean resumed after a few seconds of silence, "I've been in the bottom of probably every bar in town."_

_"You like to mix it up, huh?"_

_"I like to roam around, keep my options open, y' know. Until I find the right fit." Dean looked at him wonderingly, his gaze lingering a bit. Something about it pushed Seth forward. He kinda didn't want to back down right now._

_"So why haven't I seen you around before?"_

_Dean shrugged a shoulder, his eyes still fixated on Seth, barely blinking. "I don't know. Maybe you weren't looking in the right place."_

_Seth didn't think he was hallucinating right then. He didn't know why, but he felt this pull towards Dean, this weird tension starting to bubble up beneath the surface. He unconsciously looked him up and down and felt that tension right in his blood._

_"Yeah. Maybe I wasn't looking in the right place."_

* * *

It didn't help that they threw him in a program with Dean right away. 'You'll work great together', they said. 'Your styles would mesh really well together', they said. 'You'll be a great fit for each other', they said. What they didn't know was how much of an understatement that was.

The taste of rejection was still bitter on Seth's tongue. He knew he'd deserved it, knew that it was well earned. But it didn't make it hurt any less. It'd come from Dean, and that meant something. It cut deeper, just because it was him.

He could only imagine how awful that rejection must've felt for Dean two years ago.

It didn't stop him from seeking him, though. He tried to take advantage of the fact that they had to work together, tried to use it as an opportunity to warm Dean up to him. But it'd been like running into a castle wall. Every pitched scenario was met with a nonchalant shrug. Every thrown idea for future matches was met with a cold shoulder. Every request for a minute to talk was met with a 'later' that never happened. Dean acted like he couldn't give less of a shit about Seth, like they'd barely shared anything at all in the past. Seth didn't know if that fortress Dean had built was deceitful or honest, whether it was his poker face or was the truth. It was infuriating.

Seth tried to keep his frustration under control and not let it reflect on his work. He did his best to keep a professional front forward, even though he wasn't entirely in the zone and even though the torment was eating at him on the inside. But it seemed as though that front wasn't as unbreakable and impenetrable as he'd thought. It went to the point where William Regal had to pull him aside to ask him what was wrong and beckon him to get his head back in the game as soon as he could. It'd been the first remotely negative remark he'd gotten about his work ethic since joining developmental and it pissed the hell out of Seth, especially coming from an idol of his' like Regal. His work ethic was the one constant he'd prided himself on the most and he knew it was off. His moves weren't as crisp, his sells weren't as believable and his workouts weren't as intense. He'd been too focused on watching Dean and begging him with his eyes for some attention.

But tapings were upon them and Seth couldn't afford to mess them up. Even though he'd been in FCW for several months, his rivalry with Dean would be his biggest and most important one to date. Management had huge confidence in their feud, believing that it could propel both them and the company to the next level. There was no way Seth could let them down. He had to live up to the hype, go over and beyond it. There was no other alternative.

The buildup to their first matchup in the FCW arena was tremendous. The match itself was on another level. It was one of the best matches he'd had in his career. While very little practice had gone into it, and while Seth and Dean hadn't wrestled in over two years, it'd felt like they'd been in that ring together just the day before. Every move and every step between the ropes was like second nature. Every sequence and every transition was unbelievably fluid. Every expression and every staredown built up magic in the air. Seth was reminded of the amazing chemistry they'd had, the chemistry that they never seemed to have lost. He'd felt sparks go up and down his spine during their very first match. And he'd felt those same sparks tonight, too.

Except those sparks weren't just running up and down his spine. They were consuming his entire being.

He was met with handshakes and pats on the back when he walked backstage. They boosted him with pride and immense joy. But right there and then, he'd been boosted with a thing far more important, far more considerable — the need to see Dean in front of him, to stand with him, eye to eye.

Adrenaline pouncing in his veins, he knocked on the door of Dean's locker room. An antsy leg relentlessly jerked as he waited for an answer. A minute later, the lock clicked and the knob turned. Dean greeted him without a word, eyes static, surprise written in them. He was still in his gear, a white towel draped over his shoulder, his hair slicked back in sweat, his chest glistening. He was a vision in Seth's eyes.

He let Seth in, who gently closed the door behind him. Seth's chest was constricting on itself, his breathing as quick as it was five minutes ago as they stood there, simply watching each other.

"Thank you for the incredible match." Seth said.

Dean nodded. "Likewise. Thank you. It was amazing."

"It was... It was the best match I've had in a long, long time."

"Same. Same here."

Seth's eyes were twitching, his knees nearly buckling. "We've always worked perfectly together."

Seth could see the faintest of quivers on Dean's lips as he answered quietly. "Yeah. Yeah, we always did."

"I've missed you." Seth professed, taking a step forward with his right foot first.

"Seth-"

"I've missed you so much." He professed again, taking a step forward, and another one, until he was inches apart from Dean, until he was close enough to hear Dean's breath hitch in his throat. He slowly moved his right hand to Dean's left elbow, wandering up his bicep, the softest of touches left on his skin. Seth could sense the shivers beneath his hand, making his own eyes flutter shut.

"Don't push me away, Dean. Don't."

Seth shook his head, unable to bear rejection from Dean again, wanting him to falter,  _needing_  him to falter. He'd missed Dean so much, craved his kiss for far too long, needed  _him_  too much. He nuzzled his nose against Dean's, feeling his lashes graze his cheek.

"I'm so sorry."

His lips neared Dean's, a breath merely separating them apart. But Dean couldn't handle more. He turned his face away and shook himself loose from Seth's grasp, his head shaking from side to side.

"No. No. I can't do this, Seth. No." Dean raised his voice, taking a deep breath when he realized so. "I can't. Not after all this time. I can't, I just can't. I'm sorry."

Seth felt his eyes burn, tears threatening to escape them. He quickly turned his head away and rushed himself to the other side of the door, refusing to let Dean witness his heartbreak.

He just wanted to kiss him after their first match in FCW. Just like their first kiss after their first match. He should've known better than to try it, though. Not then. Not now.

Not then. And definitely not now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another chapter! Things are getting more intense in this one, and I hope you're onboard with that. ;) Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Flashbacks are in italic.

_Seth had just finished his first full match. He'd never had a match from bell to bell before, much less in front of an actual audience. Sure, all of fifteen people had been in attendance, and sure, the match probably stank the joint, but he just had his first real match. And it'd closed out the show. And he was over the moon about it._

_It probably helped that it'd been with Dean, too._

_He'd wrestled all the other students before, hit moves on them and put together sequences with them. But it always felt disjointed, like nothing glued it all together. Yet somehow, it was different with Dean, always had been, and tonight had been a shining example. The match may have been far from a technical masterpiece but there was something there, something that brought the two of them together. He almost seemed to telegraph Dean's next move before he even performed it, and Dean seemed to do the same, which was bizarre given that they were mere newbies to this whole thing. They didn't need to recite every move and they didn't need to give each other marching orders at every turn. Everything had gelled together a lot better than Seth had expected. Everything had come together with a sort of electricity that Seth felt in his veins, with a connection that felt palpable to the touch. If anything, their overwhelming, overbearing sexual tension that threatened to eat Seth alive during the last several months added fuel to the fire. That tension had escalated to new heights with the match, but for some reason, Seth didn't mind. He didn't mind at all._

_That match felt right to Seth, and not just the wrestling aspect of it. No, sharing that ring with Dean felt just as right as the wrestling itself did._

_His instincts had been proven correct, because as soon as he walked through the locker room of their warehouse, Big Joe walked up to him and gave him a big clap on his back, stammering what definitely sounded like encouragement. And despite Joe's more than questionable teaching methods, it still felt great to get complimented by his coach._

_His eyes locked with Dean's from across the room, noticing they were the only ones with their gear still on. Seth felt that tension he'd sensed in the ring return in a flash. That tension was always there, he realized, the two of them maintaining their eye contact. It was only magnified now. Dean gave him a small smile, and Seth was frozen, not quite sure if he was returning the smile, his body buzzing beyond control. His trance was broken by the sound of Big Joe gathering up the students for a semi-drunken speech on their first show, the one too many beers he'd consumed throughout the night catching up to him. Seth barely got out of his slurred words a few pointers and props, but he couldn't lie and say that he was too fussed about what he was saying. Dean was at the forefront of his thoughts, his eyes drifting to his lone figure every other second, finding blue eyes staring right back. Seth was on the verge of combusting._

_The whole team of students went out to take apart the ring, defragmenting it piece by piece, folding back the chairs surrounding it as well. All the while, Seth was trying to focus on the task at hand and failing to do so. Prior to the show, he and Dean had been selected by Joe to close down the warehouse after everyone left. It was dawning on Seth that it was only a matter of time before it'd be just the two of them, nervousness punching him in the stomach._

_Eventually, the last of the students had left the building, Big Joe having long gone departed. Seth was nearly trembling as he stood alone in front of the lockers, anxiousness and anticipation driving him insane. His hands were aimlessly rummaging through his bag, searching for nothing, his fresh change of clothes already laid out on the bench. He shut his eyes for a second and picked up his black towel as he heard familiar footsteps approach, trying his best to keep his cool. He looked up when Dean finally entered the room. The blond walked up to him, the bench serving as the only barrier between them. His blue eyes, pristine as Seth had ever seen them, were impossibly zoned in on him._

_"Hey." Dean said after a few seconds of blatant gawking._

_"Hi." Seth croaked out, his voice almost dropping to a murmur._

_"That was good out there."_

_"It was." Seth nodded in short, quick bobs._

_"Like really, really good."_

_Dean slowly made his way around the bench, holding Seth's gaze all the way, Seth's heartbeat turning erratic. He stopped just in front of Seth, and his eyes were even more vivid up close._

_"Yeah... Really, really good." Seth parroted, the words mindlessly coming out of his mouth, his brain having ceased to operate, his gaze suddenly gravitating to Dean's lips. As he looked back up, Dean was staring at him through his lashes, finding the blue of his irises to have darkened. The tension was about to explode._

_Dean reached for the towel in Seth's hands and dismissed it on the bench, interlacing their fingers together to pull their bodies closer. Seth was still hypnotized by his eyes as Dean's hands wandered up the sides of his face, vaguely realizing that his own fingers had moved up to the back of Dean's neck._

_All of a sudden, both of them leaned in, completely in sync, just like they were in the ring, just like they'd been all along. Their lips finally met, and it was like Seth had never truly breathed before in his life. The feel of Dean's lips against his own almost felt like a rebirth, like everything finally made sense, like everything led up to this one moment in time, and he couldn't believe he'd held himself back from kissing him for months on end. Their mouths moved intensely together, kissing with the hunger and lust they'd harbored for each other. It almost felt like an out of body experience, every move of Seth's lips and every move of his body dictated by pure feeling and pure desire._

_Dean pulled back for a second to smile at him before delving right back to kiss him, that small smile doing things to Seth that Dean surely wasn't aware of. As they made out with utter abandon, Dean smoothly guided Seth back, Seth colliding against a locker, the fire between them growing with every second and every breath, the need for more pounding in Seth's chest. As the sound of shaking lockers, wanton moans and heavy breaths echoed in the empty room, Seth and Dean gave into the moment, gave into the chemistry, gave into the tension they didn't act on for far too long. Clothes were shed and bodies met as ecstasy enveloped them like a warm blanket well into the night._

_And the rest was history._

* * *

It wasn't the match that hurt. It wasn't the physical anguish he and Dean put each other through. It wasn't the hits. It wasn't the shots. It was the words Dean screamed at him in the ring. He could've pitted it as talking trash, as Dean being in the heat of the moment. But none of it sat right with Seth. Something in his gut told him that those words weren't as platonic as they might have been in the eyes of the world.

_You think you're good, huh? You think you're a good person, huh, Seth? You think you've done it all right. You've got 'em all fooled. They don't know you. They don't know you'll let them down, do they? You ain't nothing but a liar, Seth. You ain't worth nothin'. You ain't worth nothin' at all._

Every word stung. It hurt, hurt to the point where it upset Seth, made that ever present anger grow in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't even revel in the fact that he and Dean had torn the house down for a second week in a row by putting on one of the all-time great FCW matches. He couldn't gloat in any feeling of pride whatsoever. Not when Dean kept declining him like he'd wanted nothing to do with Seth, not when he walked around like he wanted to keep things professional, not when every word he'd said during their match was all but shallow. It was personal, too personal, and it hit home.

Seth was done with the mixed signals. He needed answers, desperately, desperately needed them.

So he waited for him after the show when everyone left.

He knew Dean had a habit of being the last one to go. He'd evidently kept that habit for years, dating back to when they were learning how to wrestle. Seth impatiently paced around in the parking lot, refusing to barge in Dean's locker room like he'd done last week, completely unwilling to relive that dejection once more. He rubbed his palms together, looking up at the concrete ceiling, pleading for guidance, for closure, for hope.

It was a few minutes later when Dean emerged, bag slung over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, eyes trained on the floor. They snapped up as he got closer to Seth, noticing his presence there. He said nothing though, didn't stop to wonder what Seth had been doing there, didn't bother to so much give him a courteous nod in acknowledgment. He simply looked at him for a prolonged moment or two before passing right by him, not a glance over his shoulder. The gesture made the blood in Seth's veins come to a boiling point.

"Hey!"

Seth yelled, nearly jogging to catch up to Dean, anger blaring in his voice.

This time, Dean did look over his shoulder. He was seemingly unconcerned by Seth nearing his vicinity, no halt in his step. It spurred Seth on even more.

"What the fuck was that out there?" Seth spat, barely catching up to Dean, who was still walking.

"What are you talking about, Seth."

"You think you're a good person? You've got 'em all fooled? You ain't nothing but a liar?" Dean was  _still_ walking. Seth was seeing red.

"Can you just fucking stop walking for one goddamn minute?!"

Dean froze in place, staying still for a second before turning on his heel to face Seth, picking the strap of his duffel bag off his shoulder to hold it in his now stretched hand. His eyes were cold. It was killing Seth.

"It was just part of the character, okay? It was all for show, it meant nothing. It's no big deal, alright?"

Dean didn't even wait for his answer, turning around and picking up right where he left off as he strolled towards his car. Seth was paralysed, his eyes wincing, his hands twitching, the frustration he'd felt for weeks getting the best of him. The calm before the storm had officially come to an end.

"Are you still ridiculously mad at me or do you just not give a shit at all?"

 _That_ stopped Dean right in his tracks.  _Good_ , Seth thought, because he had just gotten unleashed. The burden was weighing way too heavily on him for him to shut up now.

"We finally, finally make it here together after all this time being apart. We haven't seen each other in two years, two  _years_ , and you won't even give me the time of day? You don't wanna exchange more than one fucking word at a time? You wanna treat me like I'm fucking dirt you just wanna dust off?"

Dean still refused to turn to Seth, his body completely immobile except for the slight shake of his shoulders that Seth noticed. Seth marched towards him, hellbent on getting a reaction. This discussion wouldn't go down like this. It simply wouldn't.

"Look at you, Dean. You don't even wanna look at me, you don't even wanna look me in the eyes." Seth's hands rose and fell in despair, his head shaking furiously, the driest of laughs escaping his throat. "Do you even care? Did I even matter to you or did you never care about me at all?"

"Don't you ever,  _ever_  dare and say that I never cared about you. Don't you fuckin' dare."

Dean's head peeked over his shoulder, his eyes shooting bullets through Seth. The ice that was once there had melted and morphed to fire in a moment's notice.

"You never cared at all."

That did it for Dean. He slammed his bag on the ground and made a beeline for Seth, stopping an inch away from his face.

" _I_  never cared?  _I'm_  the one who never cared? Is that why I stayed while you fucking left me high and dry out of the fucking blue?"

"You never let me explain-"

"Explain what? Explain  _what_?" Dean shouted, his voice blazing, his eyes wide agape. "Why I woke up to find the love of my life leaving me a note saying he had to leave town for good? Why you walked away and fuckin' spat on three years we had together? Why I had to sit in my bed for days and days and days waiting to hear from you, waiting for you to come back and tell me it was all just a big fuckin' nightmare?"

Seth may have been all bravado and courage a minute ago, but he'd gone mute now, too engrossed by Dean's outburst, too overwhelmed by this onslaught of stabs through the chest.

"I had just asked you to move in. I had  _just_  asked you to move in with me and you said yes. You said yes, but instead, you were saying yes to moving from town altogether." Dean gritted through his teeth, letting out the sourest, bitterest huff Seth had ever heard.

"All along, I thought I never deserved you, that I was fuckin' scum, a piece of shit who never deserved a guy like you, who never deserved to strike gold like I did with you. And I changed, oh god I fucking changed. I became better, so much better, because I wanted to feel like I earned you, I wanted to feel like I deserved you. And I almost got there, y'know. I almost, almost felt like I deserved you. But then you showed me that I never had you in the first place. You go ahead and you fuckin' destroy me, and you fuckin' wreck me, and you roll all over me and take anything good I've ever had in my life."

Seth had backed himself against a car, as though Dean's words were an actual blow that threw him off his feet. He couldn't look at Dean anymore, his eyes falling to the grey concrete beneath him. But then, Dean pressed himself up against him.

"Look at me."

Seth couldn't acquiesce. Physically couldn't. Mentally couldn't. Emotionally couldn't.

Dean's fingers reached out for his chin, tilting it up. Seth's face was still turned to the side, shaken when the grip on his jaw tightened.

"I said look at me."

Seth took the plunge and looked at him, instantly regretting it, nearly breaking down at the sight of the sheer resentment he was met with.

"You think you can just waltz back into my life and pretend like nothing ever happened? Did you think I'd welcome you with open arms and forget the hell you put me through? Did you think you could just click on a rewind button and take us back to how things used to be?"

Dean's voice lowered to a near whisper, a whisper sharper than any blade Seth could cut himself with.

"There ain't no fucking restart button. There ain't no fairytale. There is no happy ending here. You made sure of that."

Dean closed his eyes, squeezing them shut for a moment as he spoke.

"You told me time and time again that we'd make it together. But we never did. We made it alone. Because you never let us make it together. You never gave us the chance to."

Dean inhaled a deep breath before opening his eyes once more, glaring at Seth with a tumultuous look that he couldn't bear to explain.

"You left me, Seth. You left me all alone."

Seth was too close to tears to notice the tremble in Dean's lips. He just wanted to hide and wallow and never face the daylight. Dean's thumb pressed even harder on his chin, hard enough to be a bit painful. But that shot of pain was simply nowhere near enough to overtake the other kind of hurt that Seth was feeling in that moment.

"You  _are_  a liar, Seth. You're a liar. You fooled me. And I can't forgive you for it."

Seth's vision had gone foggy. Dean's touch softened before it vanished. He could see him picking up his fallen bag and leaving. Seth watched as his car drove out of the parking lot. Not a limb in his body was able to move. He was numb. All he could feel is a single tear streaming down his face. Because it was true. It was all true.

He  _was_  a liar. He  _did_  fool him.

Seth wrecked him. But he wrecked himself, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the fourth chapter! This update is longer and more substantial than the ones before. I really hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Flashbacks are in italic.

_They were laying on the grass, gazing up at the stars. It was one of his' and Dean's favorite hiding spots. One day, they'd taken a stroll around town, simply roaming around, until they found an abandoned little park. It'd been covered by the branches and leafs of large, old trees. Walking through, they found a large surface of bushy grass overlooking the smallest of ponds. The darkness of night made the stars shine even brighter above them. But besides the beauty of nature, the best part for Seth was the total silence that enveloped them, the isolation that encapsulated them. It was a contrast from the business of their everyday lives, and it made for a much needed difference. He'd spontaneously dropped to the grass and pulled Dean along to sit next to him. They stayed like this for hours. And ever since that fated night, they'd made it a habit to come back to that park every now and then, when they needed a moment to themselves, when they craved some solitude, when they needed to escape the overbearing pressure they carried on their shoulders._

_Looking up at the night sky, Seth was reminiscing about that moment when they first discovered this spot, thinking about how far they'd come. He and Dean had just finished a long day of training, an exhausting one at that, but the frustration was increasingly setting in. He was starting to get good, really good. Both of them were. But with each and every day, he was becoming more and more aware of how limited this place truly was. He'd known from the start that this school, that this training system would have its ceiling. But he didn't expect that ceiling to be as low as it was, didn't expect it to be this constricting and this restricting. Joe's antics were becoming too much to handle, and if it weren't for their innate abilities, Seth was sure that he and Dean wouldn't have had room for any progress. The fear of reaching and halting at a plateau was very much gnawing at Seth, who had truly felt like he was on a stride, falling deeper in love with wrestling with each step he took between those ropes._

_He wanted to soar to new heights, reach horizons he'd never thought imaginable. But he knew that it'd be impossible to do so now, not in this town, not with all these clutches holding him down. He felt himself locked in the vice grip of steel handcuffs, ones he couldn't break free of. He felt trapped, and it was the worst feeling, the most frustrating of sensations. If it weren't for the guy laying beside him, gazing up at the stars too, he didn't know how he would've lived with himself without going nuts._

_"Are you alright?"_

_Dean's voice softly chimed in, pulling Seth out of the fogginess of his thoughts. Dean's pinky finger traced the side of Seth's right hand, a touch so gentle it sent sparks in his chest. It was crazy to Seth how after all this time with Dean, a touch so mundane could affect him the way it did._

_"Yeah. Don't worry. I'm alright."_

_"Something's got you worked up."_

_Seth forgot sometimes how well Dean could read him without even looking at him. It was as though he were an open book, the pages flipping at his command, and it kind of mesmerizes Seth every time. He turned Dean's hand into his, fully holding it against the dampened grass. He shifted on his side, hovering over Dean. He trailed his free index finger down the center of Dean's chest, right between his pecs, his eyes following the movement._

_"I'm just thinking about, you know, where we're at. The present, the future..." Seth went on, placing the palm of his hand across Dean's abdomen. "It crosses my mind sometimes."_

_"Is it anything bad?"_

_Dean's tone dropped almost down to a hushed murmur, his voice laced with a hint of timidity. It was so unlike him to sound this way, a far cry from the brash, confident aura he carried himself with. It did something to Seth. It did something._

_"No, no,-" Seth wandered his hand over Dean's chest, resting it there instead, stroking it with the affection he wanted to convey, implicitly trying to make any worry go away. "It's nothing bad. I'm just thinking about all the things we can do, all the places we could reach, where we wanna go..." Seth tore his focus away from Dean's body and up to his eyes, looking deeply into them, noting a sparkle that wanted to twinkle, intrigue plaguing these blue rays of light, as though Dean was hanging onto his every word. "Where we're gonna be."_

_That sparkle in Dean's eyes twinkled, shining bright, a subtle smile peeking through, his gaze at Seth hazing up around the edges. "Yeah?"_

_Seth affirmatively nodded, a smile of his own directed right back at the man beneath him. He was feeling his own vision going hazy too, warmth spreading in the confines of his chest. "Yeah."_

_Dean's grip on their intertwined hands tightened. "Think we can make it that far?"_

_Seth's finger brushed across Dean's collarbone. "I know we can." Seth's eyes treaded after that same finger, reacquainting with every inch of Dean's neck. "We can get a condo in Tampa, with a killer view of the city. We'll get a dog, buy the pool table you've desperately wanted, spend our nights hanging out in the balcony," Seth mused, looking back up into Dean's eyes. "We'll live the life we've always dreamed of."_

_"We can spend our days at the beach, too... And flip off random strangers there."_

_Seth couldn't even fake annoyance, chuckling under his breath, flashing a grin reciprocating Dean's. "You would."_

_Dean's grin grew even brighter, his chest rising in breathy laughter. Their smiles faded as they simply looked at each other. Their stare offs were never uncomfortable, never uneasy. They were anything but. They were the most peaceful of moments both of them shared. They were reassuring. They were soothing. They would lose themselves in each other, the serene quietness speaking more volumes than words ever could. It was moments like these in which Seth realized just how consumed he was by Dean, just how much his soul was captivated by him, just how much their connection ran deep in his core, just how much this was everything he could've asked for and more. They were two broken pieces that slotted perfectly together, forming the most beautiful of ensembles. It was terrifying but Seth didn't care, didn't want to care, because this was Dean, this was with Dean, and nothing else mattered._

_"I love you."_

_It wasn't often that Dean uttered those three words first. It was rare, very rare, and it shrunk the air out of Seth's lungs every time, bursting butterflies in his stomach. Seth's heart nearly beat out of his chest, and the fondness he saw in Dean's pupils might've been just as powerful and breathtaking as his words were. He lowered his lips to Dean's, pressing a chaste, tender kiss onto them, just because he wanted to, just because he needed to._

_"I love you too." Seth replied against Dean's lips, kissing him again. "Always remember that."_

* * *

Seth was a miserable camper ever since that confrontation with Dean in the parking lot. The figurative black cloud was a casting shadow floating above him, following him everywhere he went. Seth hated this side of himself, this dark side that alienated just about everyone in sight, this dark side that hadn't peeped its ugly head in years. He wanted to keep his human interactions to a minimum, more than willing to spend his days and nights locked away in his apartment, his thoughts the only company he needed.

It certainly didn't help that he had to see Dean that much more frequently. They were only a couple of weeks away from their biggest matchup yet, a thirty-minute iron man match that was set to rewrite FCW history. And while the prospect of this match sent his wrestler's heart into a flurry, it only made him more antsy. It meant that he and Dean had to be in each other's faces nearly all the time, the coaches stressing upon the importance of practice this time around. So much was hanging on the line for this bout. And beyond the volatile situation he'd found himself in with Dean, the pressure was slowly strangling him.

He'd barely been able to get a couple of days to himself before getting back into the swing of things to prepare for this momentous occasion. William Regal was back in Tampa and was overseeing Seth and Dean's training. He was already in the ring when Seth walked in the room. He wasn't alone, chatting with a geared up Dean Ambrose who was seemingly ready to go, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Seth dismissed his duffel bag at ringside, right by the steel chairs, then swiftly made his way through the ropes. He firmly shook Regal's hand in salute and traded a few words with him before looking at Dean for a whole split second. Seth moved his head in this vague, awkward movement that initially meant to serve as a nod in acknowledgement. He'd expected Dean to continue doing the same thing he'd done since arriving to FCW — avoid looking at him. But this time around, it was different. Seth felt the heat of Dean's gaze bore through his skull, unrelenting and incessant, enough to feel like it burned where he stared. He felt haunted, like he were a moving target, like he were a prey and he was scrutinized by a vulture. It was extremely unsettling.

Seth pushed that remark aside, put his head down and tried to get in the zone. But with every passing minute, getting in the zone turned out to be much easier said than done. Something was off, way off. And it wasn't on his part. At first, Seth had thought it was all in his head, pegging it on his anxiousness, on his paranoia. But then, he realized it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him, that it wasn't just his anxiousness or paranoia taking over. Dean's lockups were a little too tight. His chops were a little too rough. His clotheslines were much harder than needed. His irish whips did pack too much velocity. His suplexes were a little too hazardous.

Dean was working him stiff. Too stiff. And judging by the unhinged look in his eyes, he was doing it on purpose. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Think you could tone it down a lil' bit?" Seth gritted, hoping it'd go unnoticed by Regal who'd stepped out of the ring. Seth tried keeping the coolest, most stoic front he possibly could in that moment.

An unruly smile appeared on Dean's face, one that he knew all too well, but one that'd never been directed to him until now. It was wild, full of vileness and venom. Seth felt like he'd been thrown in deep waters. And he didn't know what to expect or what to do with that side of Dean.

"What, can't hang with me, Seth? Can't keep up with all this, now? Can't handle it all of a sudden?" Dean approached him, his voice lowering even more, his arms spreading out wide, luring him in for more. "You know what they say. If you can't handle the heat, get out of the kitchen."

Seth groaned in frustration, curling his fists in an attempt to sheer out the ever growing anger in his veins. He prayed to the deities that be to get him through this session without bursting a blood vessel. But that wish never came to fruition, because as soon as they locked up again, Dean tackled him so hard, he'd been catapulted to the other side of the ring. The anger that'd been simmering had boiled and shattered through his veins, conquering his entire body in a flash. Enough was enough. Seth got himself up from the mat and immediately charging up to Dean.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" He snarled, shoving Dean backwards with all his might. It sent him stumbling, but only for a moment, before Dean came right back up in Seth's face, harshly clashing their foreheads together, the force of it backing Seth a few steps, the ire in his flaming blue eyes staring right into the depths of his soul.

"Oh, are you cracking, sweetheart? You cracking under the pressure, huh? Or is it just too much for you to take?" Dean pressed him back even further with his forehead. "You gonna walk away like you always did? You gonna be the fuckin' quitter you've always been?"

"Get the fuck out of my face!" Seth exclaimed before shooting Dean's head away with his hand. Regal ran between them to separate them both, his hands pushing away at the heaving men's chests.

"What in god's name is this?" Seth still wanted a go at Dean, wanted to punch him square in the jaw so fucking badly, and it seemed like Dean wanted the same thing, agitating uncontrollably behind Regal. "Both of you, knock it off, right now!" Regal decisively yelled, pushing both men away even further, his hands fixating them to keep them in their place. "You two have got a bloody thirty-minute iron man match in less than two weeks. You have a shot at making history. And instead of training and preparing for this, you decide to act like petulant little children and fight it out like you were in kindergarten? Are you out of your minds?!" Seth still couldn't take his eyes off of Dean and neither could the blond, the pair of them sending each other death glares. "Settle your problems when that bell rings. Be as physical as you want to be. But until then, get your shit sorted and get your bloody acts together, do you understand me?"

The urge to kick Dean's face into the ground was dissipating as Seth absorbed Regal's words, even though they did nothing to appease the scorching stare off that engaged both of them. Suddenly, Dean threw his hands up in mock surrender, turning his attention to Regal, backing himself away against the ropes.

"I'm taking a breather." Dean announced as he rolled out of the ring, disappearing through the entrance curtain.

Seth suddenly felt winded, the altercation taking so much out of him, driving the knife that'd been permanently planted through his chest even further in. He kneeled over, supporting his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. He looked up to find Regal watching him with apprehension and disappointment all at once, an expression he'd never wanted to elicit out of a coach.

"Take a break too, Rollins."

And so he did. Strenuous pacing, violent hair tugging and a kicked garbage can later, Seth returned to the ring. He warmed up on the spot, bobbing his chin up at Regal in understanding. He tucked his head down, put his best foot forward and mustered up the professionalism he carried himself with everywhere he went. He wouldn't fall in Dean's trap and let himself get provoked anymore, because it meant effectively erasing all the hard work he'd put in since getting signed to FCW. He breathed in a sigh of relief when Regal announced that their session had come to an end, glad that Dean decided to cooperate without being an asshole. He got out of there as quickly as he possibly could, not even bothering with a shower, feeling claustrophobic in that building, desperately needing distance away from Dean.

He hit up the gym that same night, thankful that it was open around the clock. He loved nothing more than having an empty gym all to himself, no one there to ask questions and start up intrusive conversations. Working out had always been a safe haven for him, a means to release pent up anger and frustration from his body. He used that same anger and frustration to push himself to the limit, to work even harder than he did the day before, to further fuel the fire he couldn't quell on his own. It was his own kind of therapy. And that night, he needed that therapy more than ever before.

He groaned and hustled and tired himself out. His orange muscle tank and black shorts were completely soaked by the end of his workout, his skin slicked with sweat. Everything burned, but it was the right kind of burn, the satisfying kind of pain he'd feel all the way through the morning. Music still blasting in his ears, he fished out a towel from his bag where he'd left it on the bench press machine, taking advantage of the empty gym to keep his belongings nearby. He'd just thrown his towel over his shoulder when a solid hand clapped him on the shoulder, startling him and popping him out of the bubble that he'd created for himself. He took out one of his earbuds and looked over his shoulder, finding William Regal standing right behind him. He was clad in workout clothes of his own, wearing black tracksuit pants and a beige shirt. Seth straightened up immediately, suddenly out of sorts, remembering the hot waters he was in with the other man. He quickly dismissed the second bud out of his ear, extending his right hand out.

"Mr. Regal. Hello, sir."

The Brit shook his outstretched hand with vigor. "Good evening, Seth. I see you've just got done with your workout?"

"Yeah. Needed to get my workout in for the day."

"This late at night? I don't see any of you boys working out around here at this time of night."

It didn't surprise Seth that Regal seemingly had the habit of going to the gym at night. He'd always come off as a lone wolf, as someone who valued his solitude and privacy when it came to himself and his personal work ethic. "Yeah, um...I usually don't work out this late but uh, today's kind of an exception. Had to take my mind off of a few things."

Regal's brow furrowed, his lips mischievously smirking in a thin line. No wonder his mind games were known to be unnerving. His facial expressions were enough to twist you in circles. "Oh, I could tell you needed it."

Seth wanted to ram his face into the nearest wall, the events of earlier replaying in front of him, knowing exactly what Regal was alluding to. "Listen sir, I really wanted to apologize for what happened in practice. It was out of line and completely unprofessional and very childish, and I want to assure you that you won't ever witness such behavior from me again."

"Well, I sure hope I don't. I didn't know you to be explosive at all."

"And I'm not," Seth vehemently negated, watching as Regal sat on the bench, cool as anything, "I'm really, really not, it's just-"

"You got caught in the heat of the moment."

Seth felt a whoosh of air reenter his chest, his panic slightly tamed, his eyes narrowing, almost skeptical. "Right."

Regal observed him for a couple of moments longer. Seth felt like he was under a microscope, like Regal was picking apart and analysing every twitch of his body and every word he'd uttered to him. Seth was nearly about to squirm, and even more so when Regal decided to look away and rummage through his own bag.

"So what's going on between you and Ambrose?"

Seth wanted to convulse, just about did, the panic returning tenfold. "What do you...what do you mean?"

"I mean," Regal dragged out, concentrated on lacing his shoes, "what is going between you and Ambrose?"

That answer was no clarification and it did absolutely nothing to calm Seth down. Quite the opposite. "I mean, uh... It's just- we kinda- we've had some beef for a while. A lil' bad blood. You know. Nothin' more."

Then, Regal looked up, his lips pursed to the side, his eyebrows raised, an entirely unimpressed expression written all over his face, like he'd seen right through Seth's lies. "Son, I've been all over the world for thirty years. I've seen every shade of brawls and fights under the sun, from bickering to downright wars. Your fight with Ambrose? That was a lovers' quarrel if I've ever seen one."

Seth's eyes were about to pop out of his skull, beyond grateful that Regal looked down at his shoes again. Heat was rushing from his cheeks up to his temples, his mind shifting into overdrive over what he'd just heard. To say that it'd come out of left field was an understatement. "I...uh..."

Regal dared to chuckle while Seth could only squirm and babble. Seth squeezed his eyes shut, his arms going limp, his mouth unable to produce a single coherent sound. This wasn't happening. Couldn't have been happening. This was a nightmare. Everything felt like it'd been shutting down on Seth, and it was a horrifying feeling.

"Calm down, Rollins. You don't have to worry. It's no problem. I'm not in a position to judge."

Something in Regal's words brought Seth back to earth, pulling him out of his own head before he spiralled out of control. He opened his eyes to find Regal looking at him with concern. He had Seth all figured out, had completely exposed him. And while that should've sent Seth running for the hills, it didn't. Weirdly enough, Seth wanted to confide in Regal. Even though he'd been the least expected of allies, this entire ordeal with Dean was tearing him apart. It was killing him, and he had no one to talk to about this in the slightest, because no one knew, but now someone did. And it just so happened to be his coach and mentor.

"Uh...it's..." Seth croaked out. "It's been difficult."

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking." Regal patted the spot next to him on the bench, inviting Seth to sit next to him, putting him more at ease. Seth could only comply.

"I, uh...I screwed up." Seth answered, his head ducked, idly running a hand through his hair.

"You screwed up?"

Seth nodded, tilting his head to the left to face Regal. "You know the offer that I'd gotten? Before I even got here to FCW?" Regal nodded. Seth knew he understood what he meant, given that Regal had been one of the men who'd scouted him, and, how closely he worked with talent relations. "Well, accepting that offer meant that I had to leave town for good...that I had to leave him for good... And- I didn't do it right by him. I didn't do it right at all. I..." Seth breathed in a somber, sad laugh, reliving the bitter memories of what he'd done. "I did it so wrong and I screwed up so bad and now he can barely look at me. He hates me. He hates me so much and all I've done is screw it up more and more ever since he's come here."

Regal's eyes didn't budge from Seth, simply biting his bottom lip. And whether it was out of compassion or disapproval, Seth couldn't tell, because Regal didn't make his opinion all too noticeable. Seth was thankful for that. "So you got yourself in a pickle."

"Yes."

"So give him time to come around. Give him time and give yourself time. Ambrose, he's..." Regal gesticulated with his hands, trying to formulate what he wanted to say. "He's all heart and all emotion. It's obviously difficult for him, and he can't cope with what happened, but...he'll come around."

Seth looked away, his lips pulled in a hollow, hopeless smile. "Nah. I don't think he'll want anything to do with me."

"He will."

Seth shook his head, his eyes trained on the floor. He was dejected, yes. But if he were honest with himself, a part of him was ready to be swayed by the opposite. He was open to a blossom of hope. "What makes you so sure?"

"Because the way he looks at you isn't the way you look at someone you hate, sunshine."

The statement had Seth spinning his head to the side instantaneously. The conviction he heard in Regal's words echoed the one he saw in his eyes. Seth didn't realize how badly he'd needed that reassurance, from a voice other than his own. Maybe talking about this to Regal wasn't something he'd come to regret. Maybe it was alright, after all.

"But until then, focus on your career and what's at stake. This match with Dean is your opportunity to leave your mark on this business. You have a once in a lifetime opportunity to make something huge out of yourself, and that chance doesn't come around everyday. If you don't seize it, it might not ever come around again. Take it from me."

Regal's ominous words stuck with Seth, motivating him to keep his head in the game, especially in this crucial stage of his career. His mentor was right. This thirty-minute iron man match was potentially the real turning point in his career, that one stepping stone that would take him to the next level. He couldn't be anything less than a hundred percent focused on this, couldn't let himself get distracted by anything, or by anyone. Not even by the one true love of his life. He couldn't screw this up too. Because when it was all said and done, he didn't want to regret anything, didn't want anything held against him if it all went wrong.

But it didn't go wrong. Not in the least bit. Not even at all.

The match received unprecedented buildup. In the meantime, he had put in the work, and to his credit, so did Dean. The buzz was definitely in the air. Seth kept getting texts and messages through social media wishing him luck, telling him to tear the house down with Dean, expressing how they couldn't wait to watch the match. The agents were so impressed with the publicity that they'd dedicated the entirety of the show for this one matchup. Seth was in disbelief that this was real, that this was his life, that a match he was a part of was garnering so much attention and so much anticipation from the fans and company alike. The pressure was on, but he was more than ready for this. He'd been waiting for this moment for as long as he could remember, and nobody was about to snatch it away from him.

The match turned out to be an instant classic. It was a masterpiece, a true work of art. Everything from the chain wrestling, to the high octane offense, the sequences, the trash talking, the drama, the near falls, the crowd, the draw, the sudden death was perfect. Every detail of it was spectacular, and as much of a perfectionist Seth was, he wouldn't have changed or redone a single thing. No title had been at stake, but it didn't matter, because Seth felt like he'd won more than a championship. He was so incredibly proud of the match he'd had with Dean. He was proud of himself. He was proud of them. Because this was what they'd strived to reach for over five years. This was what they'd busted their asses to accomplish. This was their dream, and together, they made it come true. He was proud of them. And from the look he shared with Dean as he exited the ring, he somehow knew that Dean felt it too.

Seth was greeted with raucous applause from agents, staff and coworkers as he made his way through the backstage area. He spotted Regal in the corridor. The older man gave him a tight hug, telling him how proud he was of him. Seth was choked up, and even more so when he made his way out to the parking lot. Some fans had stuck around just to get a picture with Seth, freaking out when he gave them an autograph, all of them thanking him for an amazing match. The validation he'd been getting left, right and center made all the adversity and obstacles he'd ever faced worthwhile. Seth had never driven home from the arena more content than he was that night.

He pulled up in the open air garage of his building, parking his car in his usual spot. As he slung his bag over his shoulder, he breathed in the pleasant night breeze flowing around him. He took out his phone from his pocket, smiling as he went through the endless congratulatory messages he'd received. He nearly dropped his phone and felt his heart stop when a hauntingly familiar, raspy voice cut through the air, halting him in his tracks completely.

"Hey."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter is here. This one is very dialogue heavy, with no flashbacks included. It didn't feel right inserting one given the context of the chapter. It was kinda hard to write, so I really hope you enjoy reading it. Don't forget to give me your feedback!

"Jesus Christ."

Seth's hand shot out over his chest, making sure his heart was still beating. He certainly didn't expect to find Dean there, waiting on him in the very dimly lit parking lot of his building. Out of breath, he turned around to find Dean sitting atop the hood of another car, silver metal gleaming beneath him, his hands bundled up together, his legs outstretched ahead of him, his expression unreadable from afar. He didn't seem to be bothered by how startled Seth was. They kept looking at each other, the whites of their eyes the brightest things in that parking lot. Seth took a couple of steps towards Dean, a myriad of emotion coursing through him all at once. Fear, confusion, interest, excitement, anticipation.

"Hi." Seth managed to say, his heart still racing.

Dean just kept on staring at Seth for several moments, his legs swaying mindlessly, and it kept the wheels spinning in Seth's head.

"How did you... How did you find out where I live?"

Dean shrugged nonchalantly. "Tried asking the office for it but they didn't wanna. Thought I'd beat you to a bloody pulp after our little run-in. So I asked Regal and he agreed to give it to me if I promised not to kill you."

"Regal, huh." It wasn't even a question. For some reason, it didn't surprise Seth in the least bit. He knew Regal had done it to lend him a hand. But right now, he didn't know if it was much of a favor. Not with the way things had been so chaotic between them.

"Yup. Regal."

Seth gulped. He bobbed his head apprehensively, nervously tapping his foot, at a loss for means to know what the hell was actually going on.

"That match was fuckin' crazy. Like crazy fuckin' good."

Seth nodded on autopilot, perplexed that Dean had come all the way down to his place to praise their match, but understanding him at the same time. Because that match was crazy fucking good. It was amazing. And it was something they'd both dreamt of accomplishing together. He just didn't expect Dean to acknowledge it to this face, not with the roaring grudges he'd held against him, not with the amount of disdain he'd harbored for him.

"It was. It really was."

Dean's posture didn't change, his eyes still on Seth, his head only slightly leaning towards his right.

"It was on another level. Like, I've had fights before, really big fuckin' fights, but... This was something. This was something else." Dean paused for a second or two, his head returning to its previous stance, looking at Seth straight forward. "This was the best match I've ever had."

It all rang true in Seth's ears. He agreed with every single part of it, although he still couldn't quite believe that Dean was standing in front of him, actually seeking him at this time of night, telling him of all people how he felt about their match after all they'd been through as of late.

"Mine too. It was phenomenal. We tore the house down."

Dean stilled his feet, bringing his arms closer to his sides. "We did. Showed everyone in the back who's the best 'round here."

"Right." The apprehension kept on growing through Seth. This whole exchange was too surreal to be true, too bizarre to even comprehend.

"So, yeah. Just wanted to say thanks. And congratulations. It was fuckin' awesome."

Seth wanted to crook an eyebrow so badly, and very nearly did because, was that really all he was here for? Really?

"Thanks. Right back atcha'."

Long seconds passed by in silence, Seth fiddling with the strap of his bag, Dean not budging from his seat. Seth had no idea what to do, his head ducked down. He didn't know whether he should stay or go, go up to his apartment or stick around. Dean had seemingly accomplished what he'd set out to do, which was thanking Seth for the match. And yet here he was, still there, rooted to his spot.

"Did you come here just to thank me? That's it? Nothing else?"

Dean scratched his leather clad shoulder, and even through the dark, Seth could see him lightly biting his bottom lip. "Yeah. That's all it was. Just wanted to say thanks. It was a big deal an' all."

This time, Seth did scrunch his brows together and frowned. He was exasperated by this cat and mouse game, the wounds of their recent altercations still all too fresh. They hadn't had a single calm, measured conversation since Dean moved to Florida. And while he knew that Dean was lying through the skim of his teeth about why he'd come, Seth was in no mood to yank out of him that calm, measured conversation he so desperately wanted and needed to have.

"Right." Seth dragged out the word. "Well then, I guess I'll see you around."

Seth tightly secured his bag over his shoulder and walked away. He gritted his teeth, and it wasn't due to the chilly weather. He'd have to yet again fall asleep with frustration in his blood and hurt in his heart.

"I'm sorry."

Dean's loud words stopped Seth dead in his tracks. They were a surefire way to keep him from going anywhere. He turned around and took a few steps back, returning to where he originally stood. He pulled his eyes up from the ground to look at Dean, whose eyes had widened and softened, almost luring Seth to stay. That alone sent Seth's heart running again.

"For what?"

"For what happened in practice the other day. And what happened before that in the parking lot. It was uncalled for."

Seth was more than taken aback. He could've counted the number of times he'd ever heard Dean apologize on one hand, much less to him. Those encounters must've truly nagged at him. Maybe just as much as it tore him.

"It hurt, Dean."

"Oh, come on." Dean shrugged off with his hand. "I didn't tackle you that hard."

"I'm not talking about that, Dean." Seth retorted, fixating Dean with determination. "What you said hurt. It really fucking hurt."

Any cheekiness dropped like a dime off of Dean's shoulders as they sulked down beside him. "I know. I guess... I guess you just..." Dean's eyes briefly flashed down before coming back up to Seth. "You awoke a side of me that I'd kept locked away for a long time."

Seth's chest was swarmed with regret, remembering it was all his doing, all his fault that they'd gotten here in the first place. Seth inched a little closer to Dean, his eyes trailing his footsteps.

"What hurts the most is realizing how much I made you hate me."

It wasn't self-pity. Seth knew he didn't deserve any shred of pity. It was self-loathe for what he'd done. Not only to Dean, not only to their relationship, but to himself too. He wrecked everything in his wake. He couldn't bring himself to look at Dean.

"I don't hate you. I never could, no matter what you did to me. That's what made things that much fucking harder." Seth nervously shuffled his foot on the concrete before Dean made his heart drop. "This would've all been easier if I hated you."

Seth didn't know if he was heartbroken or relieved, didn't know whether he was glad Dean didn't hate him or crushed over how much Dean had suffered because of him. Either way, it wasn't easy to hear, especially coming from him. Seth shook his head, still tilted towards the ground.

"I called you, you know. I called you so many times. I wanted to say hi. Say sorry. Explain myself. And I thought that maybe, just maybe you'd be less upset with me if I explained why I left. But...but I, uh. I always hung up. I always hung up before you could even pick up. I couldn't confront you... I was so fuckin' afraid that you'd hang up on me, tell me that you never wanna hear from me ever again, that I should fuck off... The thought of that was so goddamn terrifying. When I went back home to Iowa six months later, I wanted to see you so bad. I was so hellbent on seeing you and apologizing and explaining and making everything up to you. But then... Then my mom tells me that you moved to Ohio and... I was so, so fucking devastated, and..." A bitter laugh escaped his lips. " And I never had the balls to follow up or ask why you'd left. My mind burst to pieces and I was so sure that you'd moved on, that you found someone else and that you didn't give a shit about me anymore." Seth exhaled a heavy whoosh of air from his lungs, as heavy as his words were. "I hated myself so much for never giving you my side of the story, for never giving you an explanation. It was like I'd lost my chance forever."

"So why'd you leave, Seth? Why'd you do it?" Dean asked near instantly, the question hot on his tongue. Seth was surprised, so much so that he tipped his head up to look at Dean again. The blond's eyes were sternly zeroed in on him, full of emotions that Seth couldn't put a finger on. All he knew was that Dean wasn't kicking him to the curb. He was giving him the chance he'd sought and craved for all of two years, the chance that he quite frankly didn't even deserve. This was it. This was the moment he was waiting for. Seth swallowed his pride, trying his best to hold Dean's gaze, taking the deepest of breaths to maintain his composure. He was beyond flustered and fearful. He didn't want to falter and crumble.

"I, uh, I got an offer a week before I left. A guy named Danny Daniels came up to me at our show in Davenport and he told me he wanted to train me. He was running this training camp down in Florida and, uh, he told me he knew some high profile people that worked down in FCW. He told me that he'd take me under his wing, make me work shows, manage to get me signed... I asked him about you, if he was gonna offer you a place, a job. But he didn't wanna. And I wasn't gonna take the offer, y'know, I really fucking wasn't, because you and me were in this together, but-"

"Wait," Dean interjected, suddenly sliding off the car and rising to his feet, his brows furrowed, "so, you left me because, what? Because some scout wanted to sign you instead of me? You didn't want me to be all hurt and shit so you didn't tell me about it? Was this your sick way of protecting my feelings or my pride or somethin'? Was it pity? Is this what it was?"

"No. No. It wasn't."

"Then what was it, Seth? Huh? What the fuck was it?" Dean kept on raising his voice, aggravation dripping from his every word, and it rose the intensity in Seth.

"I didn't want to take the offer because I just wanted to be with you, Dean. Fuck." Seth just about shouted, dropping his bag unceremoniously, his right hand immediately running over his scalp. He had to will himself to calm down to carry himself through. "I wanted to be with you more than anything, even if I was so fucking frustrated with how things were going back in Iowa. The school was a ditch, Joe was robbing us, we weren't paid jackshit... I mean, we weren't gonna go anywhere if we'd stayed there for much longer. But I wanted us to succeed together so bad and I wasn't gonna take the offer but..." Seth's chest ached at what followed. "My mom was sick, Dean. She was getting real, real sick and nobody was there to take care of her except for me. I was so torn. I didn't know if I should stay and hope for more money so I can be with her or if I should just go to Florida and actually get paid..." Seth looked up to the sky, palms pressing together. "Danny gave me one week to decide what I wanted to do. He gave me his card so I'd let him know my choice. I burned fucking holes through that card. I was gonna say no to him. I really was. I was gonna say no. But something in me just snapped...and I called two days before leaving. And I told him yes. And I never had the courage to tell you about it."

"Why? Why couldn't you tell me about any of this? Why?" Dean implored, walking closer to Seth, his voice blaring but trembling. He sounded angry. He sounded hurt.

"Because, Dean, how could I tell you that I had an offer to leave just a week after? Why would I tell you that I had a chance of moving thousands of miles away just a few days later? So you could break up with me down the road and leave me high and dry?"

"So you do it to me? You leave me high and dry and cut your losses? That was your fucking genius solution instead of telling me what was going on?!"

"I know it wasn't! I know it wasn't and I'm sorry!"

"It's too late to be sorry, Seth! It's too late!" Dean barked, agitatedly pacing away from a jittery Seth. "Fuck."

"I was fucking miserable too." Seth quietly muttered, feeling his eyes tingle as he looked over at Dean. He got no answer. So he simply continued. "For the first six months I sent every paycheck I had to my mom, just to make sure she got her treatment. I was living on a couple bills and half the time, I didn't even know if I'd make rent. I lived on fuckin' coupons and loans. I was in this cold, small, filthy studio and I was so fucking alone and I hated myself and I missed you so much and..." Seth looked up at the stars, attempting to push back the unshed tears that threatened to fall. "Leaving you the way I did was the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. I regret it everyday. Every single day."

He felt Dean's gaze on him. He returned it, his blue eyes undecipherable but softer than they were just a minute before. They kept gazing at one another, and Seth felt like he was back in the middle of deep, dark waters, trepidation crashing over him in waves.

"I wouldn't have left you, Seth. Even if you'd told me about the offer. I wouldn't have left you high and dry. I would've been there for you."

"My head was a mess, Dean. A big, colossal mess." Seth took a tentative step forward.

"You didn't believe in me enough."

"That's not true at all." Seth shook his head with conviction, because Dean couldn't have been further off from the truth.

"You didn't, Seth. You didn't trust me enough."

"I trusted you more than I trusted myself. I believed in you more than I believed in myself." Seth assertively replied, trying to convey the truthfulness of his sentiments through his words and eyes. "This was all me. This was me being a coward. This was me never deserving you in the first place. You say you thought you didn't deserve me. But no. You wouldn't have fucked it up. I would have." Dean didn't bat a lash, and Seth didn't either, a sense of determination urging him on. "I trusted you, Dean. I believed in you more than anything and anyone. And I still do."

Seth sighed. Something poked at him. Something badgering him. Something itched. Something he needed to let out before he imploded.

"I still love you."

Dean swooped his head, shaking it from side to side, his eyes getting hazy. "Seth-"

"I never stopped loving you."

Seth stood on firm ground, drawing nearer to Dean to stand in front of him, taken by a rush of sudden confidence. Nothing he'd said up to that point felt as true as saying he still loved Dean. Nothing at all. And god did it feel liberating to say it.

"Seth, I... I can't- I don't know-"

Seth didn't wanna hear any of it, warm blood rushing to his ears. The confidence subsided and it let way to a sense of urgency, to a sense of pure panic. What if Dean had been out of reach this entire time and he never even realized it?

"Are you seeing someone?" Seth all but blurted out. There was no finesse behind the question, absolutely no subtlety. But Seth couldn't care less. Not when his heart depended on it. Not when his heart was on the line yet again.

Dean's eyes widened a bit, slightly incredulous, definitely not expecting the bluntness. He took a moment to answer, his gaze unsure, almost suspicious. "No."

Relief overtook Seth, who was a whisk away from dropping to his knees and thanking the deities above. Maybe this wasn't as lost of a cause as he'd initially thought. Maybe there was a smidgen of hope hidden below the cracks.

"Then don't answer. Don't." Seth beckoned, outstretching his right hand. He knew it wasn't fair to put Dean under any more pressure, knew he couldn't handle it if Dean told him he didn't feel the same anymore. It wasn't worth it. Not at this point. Not right now.

"I will never stop regretting what I've done. And you know how I feel." Seth drew back his hand, extending both arms out in the air. "I can't change what happened in the past. I can't take back what I did. But I've missed you so much, so goddamn much, and I love you, and I've never stopped wanting to be with you. Much less when we're finally together in the same place."

Dean exhaled an unsteady breath, a war visibly raging in the depths of his eyes. "Seth, we can't turn back time. We can't just go back to how it used to be. Everything changed, man. We ain't the same. I mean," Dean winced, tousling his hair with a tense hand, "you fuckin' destroyed me. You really, really did. It took so much time and effort to get my shit together. I never opened up to anyone before you. You changed everything for me. Like..." Dean looked above, a sardonic laugh interrupting his words, "I wanted to give you everything. I wanted you to live with me because you were everything. And... You took that, Seth." His eyes squinted. "You walked out on that. You walked out on us and... I can't forget that. We can't rewind and erase what happened, we can't turn back time-"

"We don't have to. We don't." Seth rapidly discarded, his voice begging, pleading. "We don't have to go back and live in the past. We can start over."

Seth took another step forward, breaching Dean's personal space, hesitatingly resting a hand over Dean's bicep, shivers running up his spine at the contact. Dean didn't push him away and didn't squirm away, either. It counted for something. It kept Seth going.

"You're right. We ain't the same anymore. I changed. You changed. We both changed. We can't pretend like nothing happened. I'm not asking you to. But... We can start fresh. Clean slate." Seth's tone weakened, his demand so fragile, so very frail, so very much what he wanted. "We're in this new town. We've got our dream job. We're finally where we wanna be... We can put the past behind us... We can start something completely new."

Seth gingerly hovered his forehead in front of Dean's, their faces so close, his blurry eyes focused on where his hand laid. "Give me a shot, Dean. Give us a shot... Please."

He didn't know how long they stood there like that, Seth quivering in the tantalizingly deafening silence, Dean rigid beneath his touch. His heart strung with every passing moment and he almost pulled away, almost took no for an answer, almost backed up, before a hand draped over his shoulder, shaky fingers ghosting over the length of his back, causing Seth to let out the breath he didn't know he'd held.

"Damn." Dean rasped against his ear before pulling Seth in for an embrace, the tightest hug he'd ever known, Seth grasping onto him like he was holding on for dear life. And as Dean clutched onto him too, Seth buried his face in his shoulder, hiding trembly lips and hot tears that'd fallen despite themselves.

"This is gonna take time. This ain't fixing itself overnight. I'mna need time."

Seth nuzzled his nose further in the crook of Dean's neck, losing himself in the scent, losing himself in the feeling of home.

"I don't care. Take the time you want. Don't care as long as I got you with me."

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read till the end, I want to thank you so much! Please let me know what you thought of the chapter with a comment and leave kudos if you enjoyed it! Every bit of feedback counts.


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